You awaken feeling strangled, coughing and choking as you fall to your hands and knees. Your eyes open wearily - and you see nothing. Gasping for air, you glance about wildly, disoriented, and realize to your horror that you're in the middle of a vast, black emptiness. Terrified, you instinctively grasp at the void about you for something - anything - solid. You realize that despite the enveloping darkness, your arms glow with a strange light - suddenly you pause and rack your brain for any hint as to what's going on. The last you remember clearly is being sold to Tartarus Inc. You remember them strip-searching you, your last possessions taken away before the coarse-mannered guards threw you into an empty cell. Everything about it seems a struggle to recall - clouded and fogged as though a distant memory.

A glow brightens to your right - in surprise and slight fear, you scoot back across the floor as you try to assess the new threat. A human form, dressed in a Tartarus jumpsuit, appears and crumples to the floor, choking and gasping for breath.

I'm so sorry, the voice says with an air that makes it clear her words are merely a formality. I understand that this experience is mentally agonizing. We're far from perfecting cryotech, you see, but you are here to help us correct that. You are our test subjects. If you ever want to awaken, both of you will cooperate. You've always cooperated with us before, so I have no doubt you'll do so now.

Your mind whirls. You vaguely remember being pulled from your isolation cell - you remember being marched down a hallway, blindfolded, cuffed and gagged - something injected into your arm. That's all you remember. Cryotech? That doesn't even exist...

Then it sinks in: You've always cooperated with us before. "Before???"

It's "brain maintenance," the voice explains in a resigned, curt tone, as though she's said it a hundred times. Cryotech has a tendency to leave one vegetative. Now, the both of you... make your decision, and we will begin.

The void hums, and shivers to life - six pale, golden hexagons of light appear pm the floor around you, spaced well apart. On each: a short paragraph of text.

You feel like you've done this before.

But which to stand upon? And who is this person next to you?

Refugee colony
You take the night shift outside a new refugee colony that was forced to take root on an uncharted alien planet to refill supplies. You've been here for but a few days, and the colonists feel certain that something sinister lurks just beyond your borders... but what?This tile has the silhouette of a spaceship underneath the text.

Space repairs
Lost in deep space, your corvette is under attack by ships from Mimir - a prison corporation. They seem to have orders to shoot to kill. Their light fighters are due back any moment - you'll have to hold them off while you make repairs to the engine, or you'll never make it home.This tile has the silhouette of a spaceship underneath the text.

Terrorist attack
Walking through a busy town, you suddenly find yourself in the middle of a mass terrorist attack. Do you assist the terrorists, the townsfolk, or just walk away without choosing sides?

Black market
Deep inside an asteroid-based space station, a black market trading deal goes terribly wrong. If you intend to survive the ensuing shootout, you'll need your wits about you - and your guns.This tile has the silhouette of a spaceship underneath the text.

Cultist counter
Charge into an unusual, half-biological space station to wipe out the cultists within. They seem to think they're going to summon some ancient god - which is of course nonsense. After their terroristic attacks on nearby settlements, however, nobody wants to have them around anymore.This tile has the silhouette of a spaceship underneath the text.

Something different
You are thrown into a random mission without any idea of what you're up against. It may or may not suit your abilities and loadout.A question mark dominates this particular hexagon.

- This is canon, but your character does not necessarily need to remember it. You have the OOC option to have a mindwipe of the experience post-tryout/pre-campaign. Whether your teammate's character remembers the experience is up to them.
- This is VR. You know this, but your character does not necessarily know this. Whether your character can figure it out is up to your discretion.
- A spaceship silhouette means the mission is CASKET-based.
- Your mission selection is quasi-randomly assigned with a weighted algorithm that takes your personalities, stats, skills, and official loudout into account.
- On average, half your tryout points will come from the tryout mission itself. You are being judged from the moment the thread is posted.
- Each team will have their own tryout thread. Do not post in someone else's thread.
- Type in ((out of character parentheses)) in the tryout thread if you feel it necessary. No need to post elsewhere - it's your thread and no one else's, so you needn't feel bad about cluttering it up.
- There are no maps. As this is VR, it uses "fluid space" as REKT VR traditionally has - that is to say, if you imagine something is there, it may well be there (unless I say it isn't). In a forest and need cover? Say there's a tree next to you and duck behind it. This will probably work. Want a bigger weapon? Say you pick up your death ray from behind the counter - but don't be surprised if I say there's nothing there. Use common sense and don't try to cheat the system - and above all, ignore nothing that I say.
- To activate your choice, both of you must stand on your golden hexagon.
- If you die, that's okay. If you die within the first turn or two, that's not okay.
- Don't be surprised if I cut the mission short. I almost certainly will. These are not meant to be full missions - it is merely a sample to judge from.
- Asking for ideas from other people is completely permitted. Offering ideas is completely permitted as well - as long as you don't do it in someone else's thread.
- Poor performance of your teammate does not mean you do any more poorly in the tryout. You are judged separately.
- I will be judging a number of things, but can't give specifics without compromising the judging process.
- Have fun! If it's not fun for you, let me know, and I'll try to switch things around.

"Omygosh is this VR? I've read about this but I never knew they could do it this well already! This is so cool!"
I eye my right arm, taking in the super realistic details, and then poke the non-existing ground a bit.
When I look aside,

Cha0zz wrote:"Eeeeeh Miss voice, Bob does not know brain maimtenance, does that mean that Bob has to smash brain?"Looks at the girl next to him with a glazy stare
"You also here to smash brain?"

"Meh Bob"? Does he have some kind of mental disorder? Poor guy...
I hope it's not because of the cryo though!
*mentally switching back a few gears*
"Well, nice to meet you Bob!"
I shake Bob's large hand.
"And you too Jimmy!"
I shake jimmy's paw as well.
"So, what mission would you like to do? Not sure about you but repairing is nothing for me, so I'd prefer something like the terrorist mission or so. If you want something else that's fine as well of course...."
((because it's the only infantry one ))

Dinosawer wrote:
"So, what mission would you like to do? Not sure about you but repairing is nothing for me, so I'd prefer something like the terrorist mission or so. If you want something else that's fine as well of course...."
((because it's the only infantry one ))

'Bob does not like repair either 'Bob looks at his hands
'Bob's hands are too big for tiny tools'
'Terrorist is good for bob 'Bob smiles at Saoirse

Terrorist attack
Walking through a busy town, you suddenly find yourself in the middle of a mass terrorist attack. Do you assist the terrorists, the townsfolk, or just walk away without choosing sides?

The hexagon below your feet glows to a bright, brilliant gold, shining up around you, casting flickering shimmers across the clothes of you and your companion, rising upwards in a climbing crescendo of light as it drowns out all else - so strong you can almost feel it - almost taste it -

- and then, with a flash... it's gone. There is nothing.

There isn't sound - there isn't light - not even your hands are visible. It's as though naught exists but your thoughts, and that in a vacuum. The world around you darkens even further for a moment - blacker than your mind can even process.

And all is quiet.

It stays that way... but only for a moment.

Suddenly everything around you is hustling, bustling - a busy town street beneath a distant white-blue sun in the sky that casts a strange, cold glow on the marketplace. You find yourself squinting in the sunlight, almost overwhelmed with the noise of the city. As your eyes adjust, focusing on your surroundings, you get a better look at where you are.

This is an outworld settlement; you know it at a glance, as it seems to be built primarily on half-reclaimed swampland. There's a faint, un-placeable odor in the thin air that reeks of vomit and old socks; it seems to be coming from the packed sludge beneath the half-rotting boards laid out as boardwalk roads. You and your new companion begin walking forward gingerly, watching for loose footing in the over-traveled street. Meanwhile, the people around you bustle about, going about their daily lives. They seem poorly dressed in the traditional Earther garb: leather, cloth, buckles and zippers, with not a trace of smart textiles to be seen. This seems to be a fairly new settlement - likely less than a century old. Not a one of the civilians rushing about pays you any mind whatsoever.

You hear a woman behind you hollering at a man that he "stole her goods" in a near dialect of Galactic Standard you don't quite recognize, and turn in that direction. The man streaks off down the street carrying a parcel under his arm in the opposite direction; you couldn't catch up with him if you wanted to, so you don't even bother trying. Down another side-alley, a few muddy children are setting little wooden boats sailing in an under-road canal, carried onward by the muddy current. A little band plays homemade instruments in one corner of another boulevard, with one of them dancing away merrily, surrounded by a half-ring of happy, clapping people. The band soon finishes their song, and people toss them local currency, cheering for an encore, but they decline, and the people begin to mill away.

It's a hard life here, but the people are happy with it. The air feels somewhat stagnant, but amidst all of it there's a sweet smell - some blooming flowers, perhaps. Indeed, as you strain your eyes for the horizon you see rolling hills covered in soft pink blooms. It's not a flower you're familiar with, but it reminds you vaguely of lavender and cinnamon. If this place was fixed up just a little more, it could be a nice home.

Of course... that's when you notice a group of dark-cloaked figures emerging from the shadows in an alley. You can't tell much about them due to the shadowed faces, but... they certainly don't look human. You see the flash of sunlight on metal as they step out into the light - a gun barrel, more than likely - and there's at least ten of them total. They don't seem quite ready to attack, but one or two of the townsfolk have already noticed them... This could be bad.

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea, I could go for some pudding myself... let's go ask those people there where the food stalls are!
And...put Jimmy away safely and keep your gun ready, just in case. You never know what kind of people lurk in these alleys, right?"I don't like lying to him but we don't have much time here... and if we ever get out of cryo I'll make sure to get him a real apple.I take a couple of deep breaths, try to put on a friendly face and stroll towards the mysteriously hooded fellows, and ask in my worst Irish accent
"Hey lads, do yee know where oi can find the market? Me friend and I are just after arriving here and we're a bit lost oi'm afraid!"
If they show any hostile intent, I use my battlestaff to deflect shots while making sure Bob and I get into the nearest cover,
shout at the civilians to get clear,
put 2 of them in stasis, try to paralyse another 2 with an electric zap and assess the situation.

"Boss, Bob not sure those people know, people look like Bob's old Boss"
"Old Boss not nice like you Boss"

Follow Saoirse towards the people.
If at any point in time they make any intention to shoot/ start to shoot:
- Lift Saoirse up and carry her quickly to the nearest cover, take cover myself. Associated text: "Watch out Boss, they're going to shoot you, Bob will keep Boss safe."
- Once into cover shoot at the nearest enemy with my semiautomatic pistol (shoot up to 4 times)
- If an enemy would come near our cover and I've fired 3 times or less with my pistol: introduce my crowbar (smack him on the head) Associated text: "Bad people stay away from Boss"
Else:
- Say "Hi meh Bob" to the people and flash them a smile "U like apples too?".

Saoirse
You take a couple of deep breaths and, with a friendly smile, stroll toward the group of mysteriously hooded fellows. "Hey lads, do yee know where oi can find the market? Me friend and I are just after arriving here and we're a bit lost oi'm afraid!" Bob's right behind you.

This causes two of them to pause. Their faces shadowed by their hoods, the first looks at the next as the others begin spreading out through the streets, solemnly and silently. The unknowing townsfolk nearby begin to gather, watching curiously. This is nothing they've ever seen before; they seem to expect some kind of a show.

The hooded figure before you grunts; the sleeves of his robe part slightly; you see a long, spindly alien arm that grasps what seems to be a crude assault rifle.

As the two figures before you pull out their weapons in a flash, a pair of giant hands scoop you up from the ground, even as you try to ready your battlestaff; your companion, Bob, shelters you in his arms. Gunfire rings out from behind as he rushes for a stack of heavy wooden crates in a corner of the square. "Bob will keep boss safe!" he hollers, stumbling as he tries to carry you on. Meanwhile, screams and shouts break out from all around the square as chaos sets in; you see a band member's head split with three dark holes as red mist sprays out behind, and he crumples to the ground.

"GET THE SHERIFF!" someone screams. As Bob deposits the both of you behind the stack of crates, you focus your mental energy and look to where the terrorists have fanned out. They've killed at least four people already - more are wounded - but you have little time to survey the situation, and focus with your stasis amp, trapping first one, and then another - they freeze up, unable to move. Meanwhile, beside you, Bob begins shooting - he manages at least one perfect headshot before he's forced to reload. You electrocute two other cultists - narrowing their numbers by two more - and one of them was done so filled with intent that you think you may have killed him.

A sharp shriek interrupts your efforts; a boy of about 12 has collapsed just a few meters away, a bullet through his shin. He's terrified and panicking, too panicked to register that his leg is non-functional as he tries twice more to get to his feet.

All about you, people are wounded, screaming, crying, while the black-robed cultists slowly advance, their weapons ringing out ceaselessly as they continue to massacre the townsfolk.

Bob
"Old Boss not nice like you, Boss," you reassure Saoirse, and as she starts moving toward the group of black-cloaked figures, you follow along behind her. "Hi! Meh Bob!" you say in greeting, giving them a wide, friendly smile. "You like apples too?"

This causes two of them to pause, seemingly in confusion. Their faces shadowed by their hoods, the first looks at the next as the others begin spreading out through the streets, solemnly and silently. The unknowing townsfolk nearby begin to gather, watching curiously. This is nothing they've ever seen before; they seem to expect some kind of a show.

The hooded figure before you grunts; the sleeves of his robe part slightly; you see a long, spindly alien arm that grasps what seems to be a crude assault rifle. Someone starts yelling behind you: "Lasha saka suba, belapin haga fefe Hsilkhroael daste!" You don't wait to find out what it means, instead shouting, "Watch out, boss! They're going to shoot you!"

As the two men pull out their weapons, you grab Saoirse and cradle her protectively in your arms as you turn to run away. The familiar crack-crack of gunfire splits the air; people everywhere start screaming, but you hardly notice, too busy making a beeline for the crates stacked near one edge of the little plaza.

Without warning, a stabbing sensation sears through your thigh causes you to stumble - and then another through your side. You grit your teeth through the pain, roaring, "Bob will keep boss safe!" as you force yourself onward, the last few meters to the crates. You quickly deposit Saoirse there, and get into cover yourself - and not a moment too soon. All around the square, people are panicking and screaming - some try to rush the terrorists, others flee in terror - still others shrink and hide.

Meanwhile, Saoirse is half-leaning out of cover, busy using her PSI amps ((dunno if Bob understands this...?)) to freeze some of them. You pull your pistol out from its holster and begin firing at the one she's frozen - your first shot goes wide, but your second is a perfect headshot. It helps tremendously that they're stuck in Saoirse's stasis field. ((I'm just going to write this out for your sake and let you do the roleplaying, I suppose.)) You manage to hit another guy in the leg before you're forced to reload, and fire one more shot that... also goes wide.

A sharp shriek interrupts your efforts; a boy of about 12 has collapsed just a few meters away, a bullet through his shin. He's terrified and panicking, too panicked to register that his leg is non-functional as he tries twice more to get to his feet.

All about you, people are wounded, screaming, crying, while the black-robed cultists slowly advance, their weapons ringing out ceaselessly as they continue to massacre the townsfolk.